Whiff of Danger

June 2025. The Ring of Kerry, a popular tourist route in southwest Ireland.

A family holiday takes us along the Iveragh peninsula. Our destination picturesque Portmagee, a small town founded by Theo Magee, an infamous 18^th century smuggler. From there, we plan a boat trip to Great Skellig, a well known, but remote and rocky offshore isle. Named after the archangel Michael and whose 6^th century Gaelic monastery is now a UNESCO World Heritage site.

Alas, ever freshening winds scupper any potential visit. Flags, on the main street and on poles dotted along the pier, strain against the elements. Crack like rifle shots. The challenging sea conditions shut down even the most experienced boat operators. The very legitimate travel risks, as outlined by various posted signs, ensure that each afternoon tour is cancelled.

And so, various Skellig pamphlets and brochures, available at a nearby café’s information booth, become a necessary substitute.

I delve into the history of the isle. Come to understand its isolation and relative seclusion. Skellig derived from the Irish word sceilig, meaning a “splinter of stone”.

I further learn about the wild Atlantic waters, of the gales, sea swells and monstrous waves that regularly deny access to the isle’s various coves or landing spots. And am introduced to Skellig’s puffins, gannets, razorbills, and other seabirds nesting on the formidable cliff faces.

Twin peaks, some 200 meters high, straddle a flat and fertile central valley called Christ’s Saddle. The monastery itself stands on the northern side of the isle. Remarkably well preserved, and accessible only by a series of narrow, steep, and treacherous stone steps. Exposed and even more difficult to summit is the hermitage to the south.

Then, add in stone huts (called clochans), an oratory, a church, a graveyard, a lighthouse, a Wailing Women rock, and outer terraces. All in varying conditions of erosion and decay, punished by fierce cold and lashed by centuries of vicious storms.

The original founders of the monastery, rarely ever more that a dozen Christian monks and an abbot, endure frugal, solitary lifestyles and spartan conditions. Yet not even a harsh existence and a series of Viking raids blunt their resolve. Indeed, the isle remains occupied into the 13^th century, and a pilgrimage site through to modern times.

The end of monastic life sees the isle and its buildings eventually handed over to private families, lighthouse keepers, the Port of Dublin authority, and most recently the national Office of Public Works.

Not surprisingly, as of late in the 19^th century, despite its remote location, unpredictable accessibility, and safety challenges, trips to Skellig become popular. Still, to protect the site, a maximum of 180 visitors each day gain access. The isle also becomes a location for documentaries and movies, notably the Star Wars series.

I return from my reverie. My coffee has gone cold. Glancing outside, I gather up the pamphlets and brochures spread around the table.

The afternoon slips by. Any disappointment about not being able to undertake our planned Skellig tour mitigated to a large degree by a further deterioration in the weather.

The winds increase, buffet the buildings along Portmagee’s main street. The skies noticeably darken. Clearly, it might rain. Certainly, there is every chance a foul evening awaits.

I try to imagine these and other significant obstacles confronting those trailblazing monks some 1500 years ago.

Of their arrival at Skellig, at the sheer difficulties of the tasks in front of them. Of needing to shift huge pieces of stone, of carrying heavy rocks up precarious, narrow trails or steep cliff faces, just in order to build structures necessary for simple survival. Of the need to forage and hunt for food, to harvest whatever vegetables might be grown in rocky, unforgiving soil. Of the harsh climate and endlessly churning seas.

What might all of the above to do with sport? Well, nothing really.

Nonetheless, I can’t help but link the traits surely shown by those hardy Skellig hermits with those of current elite athletes.

All possessing remarkable physical and mental strength. All displaying extraordinary courage and tenacity. All showcasing bucket loads of skill, bags of self belief, gallons of grit and resilience. All understanding the absolute value of teamwork.

And, when dealing with pure survival or any high-pressure, high stakes, sporting competition, all facing just a whiff of real danger.

Next time, I will pray for summer sunshine and calmer water.

Because, Skellig Michael, you have left a mark on me. I will be back.